


Pieces of a Whole and a Whole Lot of Pieces (Jock-nalist)

by ink_inEden



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Enemies to Friends, Idiots in Love, Internship, Jock Louis, Journalism, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Stereotypes, Strangers to Lovers, mention of bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-11-12 03:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11153352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink_inEden/pseuds/ink_inEden
Summary: Louis is a jock, the other boys are journalists for the school magazine. Somehow they all end up spending their break as interns for the same company. Turns out they are all not quite like they seem at first glance.





	1. Cherub

**Author's Note:**

> (Previously just named "Jock-nalist")  
> -  
> I started writing this over two years ago in an unconventional attempt to memorise English vocabulary…weeeell, it was worth the try ;)  
> Anyway, I decided to finally finish it, because it's holding me back from writing out my new stories and I’m too attached to it to just throw it in the bin.  
> I hope you like it :)

Louis looked up at the huge glass facade, trying to brace himself for what was lying ahead of him. If it hadn’t been for the promise he had given his mother, he’d probably turn around right now. He just wasn’t the kind of guy for the media industry no matter how many times his friend Stan had tried to tell him otherwise. Posting a few funny snapshots and little clips online now and then did _not_ qualify you for a broadsheet. He was a _jock_ , no _journalist_.

On the other hand if his writing skills weren’t so poorly, he wouldn’t be here at all.

Louis sighed and checked his mobile phone for the last time, hoping despite better judgement that Stan would come to his rescue – which he didn’t. _Traitor_. Maybe Louis should upload that highly embarrassing and awkward tape of Stan’s very own (and very drunk) Beyonce-interpretation as his next feature (He wouldn’t, of course).

A beeping noise signalled him that the pedestrian lights had turned to green and he quickly crossed the road, whilst typing out a passive-aggressive message to his friend. When he reached the other side, he came to a halt to ceremonial send out his last text, before he would surely end up in the section for obituaries (He _might_ be a little drama queen as well).

Just as he hit the “SEND”-button something heavy bumped into his back, knocking him down to the cold ground and his mobile off his hand (He wasn’t exactly the strongest-built kind of guy, okay?!).

“Oh cr-” His cursing was drowned in the big body that slumped on top of his and its instant stream of “sorry, sorry, sorry”.

“Get off me” He managed to squeeze out of his compressed lungs. “Sor-um…oops, right.” The weight on his back disappeared hurriedly and a second later he was pulled to his feet and flooded in another wave of “sorry”s.

They were uttered from a pair of rosy lips which belonged to a round boyish face with huge green eyes and a mob of brown curls on top. _Like a cherub_ , Louis’ mind helpfully supplied, but apparently decided that it had done its job with that, before it could actually come up with something eloquently.

So he blinked dumbfounded, while the other one showered him in apologies, still invading his personal space. Louis was almost convinced the kid was close enough that he could sense the flutter of his eyelashes on his skin. The realization made him stumble several steps back.

Immediately the boy’s guilty expression extended with a sad drop of the corner of his mouth, like Louis had insulted him or something. It made Louis feel foul, like he contaminated innocence – if that was even a thing. Nervously he whipped his dirty hands on his trousers and straightened his shirt. “Um…hi. I mean, um, it’s ok, you know? No need to apologize that often…”

“Ok, sorry – I mean, sorry…um” The boy clasped his hands over his mouth blushing like a peony and turned away in embarrassment to gather his stuff. Apparently the closure of his bag hadn’t survived the collision and his whole belongings were spilled on the ground. Sighing Louis kneeled beside him and gave him a hand.

He could see the boy glance at him out of the corner of his eye, biting his lips firmly. “You…you don’t have to-” He started mumbling, but Louis shut him down straight away. “Yeah, but I’m going to do it anyway.” He handed him a pack of periodicals and pencils. “Thanks” The boy whispered lowly and grabbed his stuff from him.

Louis brushed of his knees and got up again. “S my pleasure, Curly.” A smile spread on the others face, making adorable dimples visible in his cheeks. “It’s Harry.”

Doe-eyed _and_ dimpled. The boy surely was an invention of the devil or something like that. Louis returned the smile and helped him up. “Well Harry, I’m Louis.”

“I know.” As soon as the words left his lips Harry’s smile vanished and he pressed his mouth into a firm line like he had just said something unutterable. Louis narrowed his eyes, a memory tucking at the back of his brain. “I know you, don’t I?”

“I don’t think you do.” Harry’s gaze flickered away and he nervously fiddled with his straps – one belonging to his shoulder bag, the other to a smaller bag in the size of a camera. Louis face lit up. “Of course I do! You are the photographer for the scho-“

“You really shouldn’t.” Harry interrupted him like he hadn’t said anything. He turned away with another mumbled “thank you”, eyes still fixed on his shoes. Louis stared after him, open-mouthed and confused.

He only started moving again when another passenger brushed past him with a mildly annoyed “Watch out boy”. He reached for the phone in his pocket to send Stan a quick message whether he knew something about that Harry-kid, but all he could grasp was the fabric of his pants.

A quick look at his surrounding affirmed his worry that Harry must’ve accidentally grabbed his phone when he had picked up his stuff. Louis groaned. Perfect. Now he was banned from the joys of holiday _and_ the digital age. Surely some dude up there had a soft spot for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated <3


	2. Geek

Louis really had no idea what he had done to deserve this.

He was stuck in an elevator with a seventeen-year-old coverage geek, who had introduced himself as Liam Payne, intern-of-the-month-to-be, and hasn’t stopped babbling since then. (Louis was also pretty sure that he had already met him at the school’s football try-outs several times, but apparently he never made a lasting impression.)

While Harry’s ramble had been kind of adorkable, Liam’s relentless word vomit only stirred Louis’s desire to bang his head against the mirrored walls of the lift. So far his only contribution to the conversation had been his name and the question how the other boy had managed to already be in reach for intern of the month – he had received a handshake for the first and a snappy comment for the latter one. (It was a valid question so, because the school holidays had started like what – a week ago?!)

He had actually hoped to sneak in a question or two about Harry – only mandatory information for the safety of his phone, of course – but for the sake of peace and quiet Louis quickly decided it would be wiser to leave the talking to Liam. Not that that was a particular easy decision on him. In fact it required all his will-power to stay put.

The lift doors opened with a _bing_ , revealing a huge office with bits of papers and conversations flying around. The room itself had a great view over the surrounding streets through its panorama windows and was cramped with colourful desks, which all showcased the owner’s personalized definition of chaos. Well, _that_ was a working atmosphere appealing to Louis’ liking.

With a sweeping gesture Liam stepped into the room and carried on with his monologue, while Louis strolled after him.

“Welcome to the media landscape of Cowell Connectivity.”

Ha! Louis immediately observed the alliteration in there. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for being way more skilled than everybody granted him. (Nobody had to know it was the only stylistic devise he ever managed to remember.)

“Originally it started as a quality newspaper in print media, but in order to keep pace with the age of mobile communication CC also targets its services at the online audience since the turn of the century. The digital description allows our readership to access a variety of news 24/7, which is regularly updated with breaking news.”

He continued by naming all the different sections – apparently they covered every subject from business news to baking – while pointing out those responsible for them. Said people looked up briefly and nodded a quick welcome in their direction, completely ignoring Louis’s silent begs to save him from this overeager kid beside him.

Liam whereas stopped dead when he spotted Louis’ eyes almost bulging out of their sockets and gave him a funny look. “Is everything okay?”

Damn him. Why, out of all people, did Liam PAIN have to notice his efforts?

Louis instantly smoothed his features. “Um, I was just wondering…so this is also a tabloid? I thought CC is only about the hard news?” He tried to distract him. Luckily his poor attempt sent Liam off into another gush of words straight away. (He silently thanked his mum for forcing him to read through that first Wikipedia-paragraph on the company or else he would have drawn a complete blank right now.)

“Well, that’s what Mr Cowell is famous for. But nowadays popular newspaper and domestic magazines are more attention grabbing for the common people because they directly apply to their everyday life or help them to escape from it. Therefore we engage with them by extending our reporting into these areas. Still, CC is no gutter press of course. Instead of sensational and one-sided gossip, we only provide the readership with objective and thought-provoking analysis or satirical articles, because CC made it its business to be entertaining and educating at the same time.”

Yeah, the whole thing was _surely_ _only_ dedicated to education and entertainment. The fact that it probably boost the circulation figures and generated way more revenue was _absolutely just_ a nice coincident. Not that Louis cared. But he was kind of stunned by Liam’s naïve commitment.

He tried to meet Liam’s enthusiasm with a neutral “um…ok”, but judging by Liam’s expression, he did not exactly take to it as diplomatic as he was hoping for. Actually, Liam almost looked offended by his lack of enthusiasm.

Awkwardly, Louis shifted from one foot to the other. Was it some sort of crime not to believe 100% in the life-changing greater cause of Cowell Connectivity?

“Um…I mean – SHOUTOUT TO THE EDUCATION!” He bellowed and offered Liam a high-five, while aggressively ignoring the funny stares he was getting from the whole room. Liam gave him a weird look, too, but accepted the high-five reluctantly.

Louis kind of counted that as a win, until a deep voice spoke up behind him. Then Louis was pretty convinced it was the worst idea of his entire existence. (And he had once tried to do a handstand on a swing with probably more alcohol than blood in his system, mind you.)

“Are you enjoying yourself, boys?”

Liam nearly jumped out of his skin, when he heard that voice. For the first time, Louis could actually relate to him.

They both turned around in their own form of tenseness – Liam hectically and Louis as slow as possible – facing none other than the media mogul himself. (He might have also starred in one or two nightmares of Louis.)

Liam immediately jumped into his next rant. “Mr. Cowell, Sir, we didn’t try to –“

“Has Harry arrived, yet, Mr. Payne?” Mr. Cowell interrupted him unfazed, while skimming a document his assistant hastily handed him. “I need him to go over the visual material for the front page with me.”

At the mention of Harry’s name Liam grimaced like he had tasted pure lemon juice and grabbed Louis’ hand so tight that his circulation was probably cut off. – Or maybe the hand-thing was Louis’ doing. Thinking about it, he couldn’t really tell anymore.

Liam smoothed his features into a neutral look and replied calmly. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t seen him today, Sir. Is there anything I could do for you instead?” (Scratch the neutral part – he was totally doing puppy eyes.)

Mr. Cowell returned the paper to the stack his assistant was balancing on one arm and took the Starbucks’ cup she was offering him with the other one. Thoughtfully he sipped on it, before he responded: “Coffee would be nice.”

With that he turned around and started dictating his assistant something about privacy issues, glancing at their still joined hands in passing. Liam pulled his hand back like he had burned himself. – He even had the indecency to whip it on his trousers.

Normally, Louis would send him his “I’m judging you so hard”-look, but Liam resembled the expression of a kicked puppy so much right now that his anger immediately dissolved.

“Oh, and Leon?” Mr Cowell called out to them and briefly turned around again. (Liam’s reaction was entirely too hopeful for the fact that he was dubbed as “Leon”.)

“Give Mr. Tomlinson some paper work, will you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too tired to really write any notes right now, but I keep not finding the time to update this, so I just finally wanted to post a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it! <3


	3. Joker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!  
> I'm struggling with parts later on in the story - and admittedly also with life - but I hope that I'll finish this story within this year.  
> I wish you a happy new year and lovely day (or night)!

It turned out Louis wasn’t a drama queen after all. More like a fortune-teller. Because he _literally_ ended up in the obituaries. (Like, not literally of course, but _literally_.)

He had to scratch together the entire sob from widow(er) this and family that, with whom Cowell Connectivity cashed in on, so it would be plastered in a newspaper for even more people to mourn. (It was as depressing as it sounded.)

Louis made the mistake of answering the phone with a chipper “hello, how are you doing?” exactly _one_ time during his first half hour and spent the next half hour regretting it dearly. In this time he had said the word “sorry” so many times that it didn’t even sound like a real word anymore.

While poor Mrs Carter was tandem crying about her dead husband and calling Louis an insensitive bastard, poor Louis started scribbling on his baby blue desk. He vaguely remembered Liam mentioning during his lengthy explanations that every section of the news agency had their own colour for the table tops.

But even though Louis could appreciate the rainbow vibe it brought to the room, it was still beyond him why the obituary section was a _bright, cheery blue_. It didn’t seem really fitting. (It certainly didn’t fit Louis’ current mood.)

He angrily tried to wipe away the stick figures and the one-person tic-tac-toe, he drew on his desk, phone still squeezed between his ear and his shoulder. Turned out he had used permanent marker. Louis cursed silently. “Shit!”

“Excuse me?!” Mrs Carter immediately screeched into his ear. “I’m telling you about _our engagement_ \- the _most romantic moment_ in my life – and you just call it shit?!” She started sobbing uncontrollably. “He’s…he’s dead! My sweet, sweet husband is dead…Is that a – a joke to you? The old hag alo-o-ne for eternity-y-y…”

“No, no, no, of course not! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Louis nearly screamed into the phone. The other people in the office were most likely staring at him. Well, whatever – priorities and stuff.

“You are such a lovely lady, people would be mad to leave you on your own! And…and like your obituary is so special –” Maybe he should just shut up. “It’s another bit of love you share with your husband, even though he is not with you anymore. – I mean…all these moments – they are gifts you were given to cherish and hold on to and – and doesn’t that make it all worth it in the end?” Okay, he should _definitely_ shut up. “I just…the pain means it was real and pure, doesn’t it? That the love you shared was honest…”

_Why?_ Why did Louis think it would be a good idea to work here? Why did anybody for that matter – his teacher, his mum, bloody _Simon Cowell_ – think it would be a good idea for him to work here? He made lonely old people _cry_ and it’s only his _first day_.

Mrs Carter’s sobs on the other end of the line have toned down to little hiccups. “You know…” She started shakily. “I have never thought about it like that…Ever since Johnny passed away I was mourning what I lost-”

“I’m sorry” Louis mumbled again, but it’s probably his most genuine, yet. “No, don’t be” Mrs Carter sounded calm now, almost chipper. “It was nice talking about it. You are a remarkable young man.”

“Oh” Louis didn’t really know how he should respond to this change of heart. He definitely didn’t deserve it. “Well, thank you…” Mrs Carter hummed absentmindedly. “Don’t forget the obituary for my John.” She replied after a few seconds, before the line went dead.

Louis stared at the phone dumbfounded. Finally, he dropped it back into place and his head onto the table. “Kill me, please!” He groaned into the blue plastic.

“That would be sad” A soft voice responded in place of the table, drowned out by a much more dominant “That would be kind of a waste of time and human resources, considering you would just end up in the obituaries all over again.”

Jumpy, Louis lifted his head, nearly toppling out of his chair in the process. Once he regained balance and realized that he had _not_ just been caught slacking by Liam, his grown-up co-workers or worse, Simon Cowell, he huffed out an annoyed “the fuck?!”

At least he had the presence of mind to quickly shuffle some papers over his smearings. He really shouldn’t be caught damaging Cowell Connectivity’s property on his first day – or like _ever_.

He still felt like he was failing spectacularly, though, because he could tell that his cheeks were heating up in an embarrassing shade of red. Of course his body had decided to lose his normal chill right now.

When Louis turned his – probably tomato-coloured – head to his intruders again, Harry had already bitten his lips to a glossy pink, while the kid beside him was still wearing the same obnoxious grin as he had done at first glance vaguely reminding Louis of the infamous Joker. “Um…well, thanks for caring, I guess…” Louis finally managed with half-decent coolness. (Who was he kidding, he was anything but that.)

“Nah, we don’t.” Harry’s companion replied cheerful and hoped onto the baby blue desk. Louis stared at his notes that wrinkled under the guy’s butt, wondering whether he should point them out or just happily accept the added layer of distraction on his permanent doodling.

“Niall!” Harry chided his friend and squeezed himself onto the table top next to him. Directed towards Louis, he added: “Don’t listen to him. He’s just a sad little leprechaun that sees his magical home country way to rarely.”

He also gave Louis a cheeky smile, but before he could return it Harry quickly turned away with rosy cheeks and affectionately patted Niall’s blonde hair instead. It was kind of confusing…and disappointing.

Louis tried to focus on Niall as offset, who was currently pushing Harry’s hand away and buried his own in Harry’s dark curls to playfully yank on them in revenge. “Ireland is awesome, you hobbit. Your home country is _nothing_ compared to mine.”

Harry jutted out his bottom lip in an endearing pout. “Heeey, the Shire is amazing.” Niall rolled his eyes in response. “Amazingly invented.” Harry gasped and reached for his heart, but the other boy ignored his antics in favour of inspecting Louis. “So what are you then?”

“An elf!” Harry called out immediately, so Louis could only open and close his mouth again like a silent fish. “I mean, he’s got that handsome other-worldly look…doesn’t he? Like the eyes and cheekbones…” The curly-haired boy’s excitement turned into an embarrassed mumble. (Still, Louis was pretty sure that in no way Harry’s face was as red as his own right now.)

“Hm” Niall grasped his chin like it was a normal thing to do – or maybe it was normal for him, it’s not like Louis really knew him – and turned Louis’s head from side to side. “I’m not sure. He could be a pixie as well, you know, like Tinkerbell in Peter Pan. Sweet from the outside and sly on the inside.”

Abruptly, Louis tore his face out of his grip. What the hell?!

Niall gave him an innocent smile, whereas all playfulness seemed to have left Harry’s face and instead he was eyeing Louis with an unreadable expression. But before Louis had the chance to decipher it, somebody called his name. “Harry! I don’t have time to wait around for you. Hurry up!”

Instantly, Harry’s head swung around, effectively ending their eye contact. “Sorry, Mr W – Ben!” He called back, cheeks colouring slightly. “I’m coming!” Louis followed his line of vision and mustered the tall dark-haired man, who had to be Ben. He looked slick. Louis decided then and there that he didn’t like him.

Harry chided Niall “to behave” and shot Louis an apologetic look, before he hopped down the table and scrambled over to this Ben-dude. The guy immediately slung an arm around Harry’s smaller frame, his body language somewhere between patronising and self-absorbed. Harry seemed to soak it up, however. Maybe Louis would have to revaluate his opinion about Harry. (Not that he had one, of course. He barely met him.)

“Ugh, I don’t get why Harry likes Ben.” Niall mumbled under his breath. Louis’ head snapped around at that. He had kind of forgotten him, to be honest. “He’s such a jerk.” Niall added grumpily. For some reason that seemed to remind him of Louis’ existence, because he turned his squinted eyes to him instead and seized him up and down. “You’re jealous?”

Louis stared at him, speechless. “What?” He finally choked out, his voice high-pitched and panicky. It’s truthfully the only word on his mind right now, adorned by a whole bunch of question marks. (He’s also not sure if Niall was even stating a question or making a claim.)

The frown slipped off of Niall’s face and was immediately replaced with his original radiant smile. It kind of made Louis feel unsettled rather than welcomed, his reciprocating smile accordingly weak.

“I think we’re gonna have fun with you.” Niall expressed cryptically, before he climbed down from the desk as well. “Break a leg or something.” He patted Louis on the back lightly, generally seeming rather bored and unengaging now that Harry was gone, and shot off like a lightning bolt, a second later already tackling a dark-haired boy on the other side of the room.

Louis stared after him, bewildered. He himself wasn’t exactly the easiest to deal with – he had a lot of nervous energy – but the analogy to a madman didn’t actually seem that far fetched.


End file.
